


her lips divide him vein by vein

by MissSpookyEyes



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Femdom, any resemblance to loving caring or healthy behaviour is strictly coincidental, if you can call this a relationship, reasonably OK BDSM etiquette?, very much PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23015746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSpookyEyes/pseuds/MissSpookyEyes
Summary: The Alliance Commander, once known as Cipher Nine, returns from a mission in an unusually good mood. The reason is waiting in her quarters - and he's been very good for her.She is going to be so very bad to him.(PWP, set between the end of KOTET and the beginning of War for Iokath)
Relationships: Arcann/Female Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	her lips divide him vein by vein

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from 'Laus Veneris' by Algernon Swinburne.
> 
> Thanks to @verbose_vespertine and @SunsetOfDoom for comments & encouragement.
> 
> I've not really written this sort of thing before so absolutely any feedback/comments/input is appreciated.
> 
> I do not own Star Wars or SWTOR.

'Here it comes.' Kaliyo wrapped her hand around the controls and pulled back smoothly as Devinahl looked up from her datapad. 'Three ... two ... one ...'

The dizzying blur of hyperspace resolved into the starry black of normal space, and then the starfield wheeled smoothly and there was Odessen, all jewel-bright blues and greens and swirls of white cloud, framed neatly in the viewscreen.

'Home-sweet-base of operations,' Theron remarked laconically from the comm station, one hand on his headset. 'Orbital control has cleared us.'

'Taking us down,' Kaliyo confirmed, the planet growing steadily bigger in the viewscreen. 'Hey, slicer boy, you might want to watch closely while I do this. See if you can pin down the pesky difference between "landing" and "crashing".'

'I know the difference between landing and crashing, thanks all the same.'

'So what you did to that speeder was deliberate?'

Theron shot Kaliyo a filthy look and Devinahl raised her datapad to cover her smile. The former SIS agent had been piloting their speeder as they pursued two of their targets, who were on swoop bikes, across the grasslands on Yurashima, and while he insisted it was a repulsorlift coil failure which had sent them pinwheeling through the air and eventually landed them perpendicular in a ditch, the others had not failed to needle him about his piloting - with various degrees of venom - ever since. 

As if on cue, the door hissed open and Gault and Vette came in, the Twi'lek saying: 'Theron's not piloting, is he? I haven't updated my will recently.'

'And Hylo does so prefer my body in one piece,' Gault added as the slight shudder of the transition to atmosphere reverberated through the ship.

Vette dug an elbow into his ribs. 'Hey, Theron can get you down in one piece. It'll just be one big piece of flaming wreckage with all our melted corpses fused to it.'

'It was the repulsorlift coil!'

'Sure it was, big guy,' Gault said kindly. 'You just sit there and look pretty.'

'You -' Theron's retort was cut off as he turned back to his station, pressing his hand to his headset again. 'Acknowledged.' He turned back to Devinahl. 'Base control says welcome home, Commander.'

Devinahl locked her datapad and put it aside. 'Tell them to signal Lana. I want all senior staff in the war room for mission debrief fifteen minutes after we land.'

Her words were met with a communal groan. 

'Fifteen minutes?' Vette protested incredulously. 'Er, Commander,' she added belatedly as Devinahl looked at her.

'Can't we at least have a couple of hours to get something to eat and hit the refreshers?' Gault asked plaintively. 'We've been on this ship for three days.'

'The sonic showers on the _Phantom_ are better than anything on Odessen in the way of plumbing -'

'I keep telling you, Commander, I know a guy -'

'- and we need to debrief.'

'But - right away, Commander?' Theron shrugged as she looked at him. 'I mean, the mission was a success.'

'Partial success,' Devinahl corrected. 

'So we didn't get Gaeton Mugaba,' Kaliyo scoffed from the pilot's seat. 'Big deal. The guy's a stuffed shirt anyway.'

'And we got a clean data dump from their servers,' Theron added.

Devinahl tapped a finger on the polished surface of the console beside her. 'So you say, but there's no way to be sure unless we analyse them properly. And I still haven't seen the full directory.'

'Still rinsing them for bugged code. Couple more hours, tops.'

'So we use those hours for mission debrief and then work on the files later.'

Theron sighed. 'Yes, Commander.' He turned back to his station and began unenthusiastically relaying the order to base control.

'See?' Vette said. 'When even Theron Shan thinks you're overdoing it on work, it might be time to rethink.'

'Thank you for your input, Vette,' Devinahl answered, coolly enough to quieten the Twi'lek momentarily.

Gault heaved a sigh. 'It's all right for you people. You haven't got a smoking hot lady you haven't seen for seventeen days to get back to.'

'Hey, who says I haven't got several smoking hot ladies to get back to?' Kaliyo demanded from the pilot seat, her hands moving deftly over the controls. 'I'm just not dumb enough to be committed to any of them.'

Vette was eyeing Gault suspiciously. 'You're awfully keen to reunite with Hylo.'

Gault spread his hands wide. 'Can't a man just be anxious to see the love of his life?'

'He can,' Devinahl agreed. 'On the other hand, he could also be eager to see the credits Kresh from the cantina promised him in return for the ten cases of Yurashima wine he's got stashed in the cargo bay.'

She had the satisfaction of watching the perennial smirk fade from Gault's face as he registered her words. Vette, on the other hand, cackled and clapped her hands together as the Devaronian gaped. 'You - you -' he looked from one woman to the other, eventually settling on Vette and pointing an accusing finger. 'You told her!'

'I never said anything,' Vette denied. 'But I warned you that you weren't going to get one over on the commander, didn't I?'

'I - you - Commander.' Regrouping, Gault's voice changed from panicked and indignant to the usual insinuating, flattering tone he used with her. 'Commander, forgive me. I only wanted to spare you the tedious business of import licenses and transport negotiations while I brought in this small, er, perk for our gallant troops.' He laid a hand over his heart. 'Please, do me the honour of accepting a bottle - _two_ bottles of the best vintage before I deliver the rest to Kresh for what I assure you is a very reasonable price.'

'That's very generous of you, Gault,' Devinahl answered, standing up and picking up her datapad. 'But there's no need to send me any bottles.' The smirk was already reforming on Gault's face when she added, 'The two cases that are already being sent to my quarters as soon as we arrive will be more than sufficient.'

'Two - two cases?'

'I arranged it with Hylo before we left.' Devinahl smiled at the dumbfounded Devaronian and headed towards the door. As it hissed closed behind her, her implant-enhanced ears picked up Vette's voice:

'She's in a good mood today.'

Kaliyo brought the _Phantom_ smoothly down on the landing platform, and only managed to insult Theron's piloting skills three more times while doing it. 

Lana was waiting as they disembarked, gloved hands clasped in front of her, intent and severe as always in her unadorned, functional black gear. 'Commander,' she said by way of greeting. 'Report.' It was somewhere between a command and an offer.

'Normal people say "hello", Lana,' Theron grumbled, swinging a heavy case over his shoulder.

Lana ignored him. 'Commander?'

'Partial success. You?'

'All quiet here.' Lana's eyes flicked over the group disembarking from the ship as if checking they were all whole and undamaged. 'It went well, then.'

'Well, the Republic's finest here crashed a speeder, one of the targets got away and I'm still not convinced we pulled all the files we needed. But apart from that, it was a resounding success.'

Lana raised her eyebrows. 'You let Theron pilot a speeder?'

'You can take it out of his pay.' 

'You'll have to start paying me first,' Theron called after them as the two women walked away.

By the time they had reached the war room, Devinahl had updated Lana on the most crucial findings from the mission, and received her own headlines on the state of the Alliance in her absence in return. Some of the senior staff had assembled; others were still hurrying in as Devinahl accepted a cup of kaf from 2V-R8 with an absent-minded nod of thanks, almost as automatically turning a blind eye to whatever Kaliyo was surreptitiously pouring into her own cup. 

Soon enough, they were all assembled around the briefing table. Clearing her throat to call the meeting to order, Devinahl demanded and received brief updates from everybody around the table on Alliance status, then filled everybody in on their mission to Yurashima, where they had gone to break up a small knot of rogue Knights of Zakuul who had decided to terrorise the local population. 

'Fortunately the local criminals weren't happy that Yzalli and her followers were moving in on their territory.'

'And fortunate that you had the right people along to persuade them to help,' Gault put in, clearly eager to gloss over his wine-smuggling by emphasizing how crucial he had been to the success of the mission; across the table, Hylo was eyeing him with narrowed eyes.

Senya sighed. 'Yzalli and Eranas were never among the brightest.' Her blue eyes were bleak; Devinahl had not brought her along for this one, feeling that no matter how responsible for the Knights Senya considered herself to be, there was a limit to how many of them she should be actively involved in tracking down and putting an end to. She saw Arcann shift infinitesimally closer, as if to lend his mother silent support.

'Maybe not, but this is the second time that Gaeton Mugaba has slipped away from a nest we were targeting.' Devinahl folded her arms. 'I want to find out why he is involved with so many of these splinter groups.'

'He's just a bureaucrat,' Koth scoffed. 'The only reason he was involved in supply and procurement for the Knights was because he had too many important family members to be kept out of the Spire entirely.' 

'I still want to know,' Devinahl insisted. 'If he's somehow using old contacts to coordinate a flow of supplies to rogue groups working to destabilize the new regime, I'm going to put a stop to it.'

'A thorough analysis of the data you downloaded from the computers on Yurashima would help,' Lana said.

'Final pass on the files will be done in ... one hundred and seventeen minutes,' Theron reported. 'I'll have them sent to your datapads as soon as they're ready.'

'Then we'll go through them thoroughly.' Devinahl glanced at the mission team. 'Arrange individual debriefings with Lana once you've submitted your reports. Dismissed.'

Kaliyo slipped away almost immediately, throwing a mocking salute to Devinahl, but the room otherwise emptied slowly as her senior advisors fell into quiet conversation with each other. Devinahl circled the room, touching base with Aygo, Senya, Koth, checking on the progress of particular projects, asking for specific reports, double-checking on Doctor Oggurob's latest lab requests, running her eyes over lists of ship statuses. All in all, it took almost an hour by the time she finally left the war room, and she knew she had left nobody in doubt: The Commander was home.

The thought struck a chord of pleasurable anticipation within her, and while she would not allow her pace to quicken, she smiled to herself. 

'You look rather pleased about something,' Lana observed, falling into step beside her as she left the war room. 

'Well, there's no place like home,' Devinahl responded lightly as they skirted a large group of curious onlookers who had gathered around Gault and Hylo, standing nose to nose and yelling at each other at the top of their lungs.

'And here I thought you were worried about Gaeton Mugaba,' Lana asked, a little too innocently, as they headed towards the residential block.

'I am, but there's nothing to be done about him until those files are ready, which won't be for another -' She checked her chronometer. 'Fity-seven minutes.'

Lana folded her arms as they paused outside the door to Devinahl's quarters. 'Why do I have the feeling you have very specific plans for those fifty-seven minutes?' Her voice was cool, but she was smiling. 'Possibly involving someone who, I note, left the war room rather quickly after the meeting was over?'

Devinahl flicked a quick glance up the corridor in both directions before drawing closer to Lana. Keeping her voice low, she asked sweetly, 'Do I ask you who you have tied up naked in your quarters?'

'I just hope you know what you're doing.' 

Devinahl smiled up at the taller woman through her eyelashes. 'If you've forgotten my skills in this area, you're welcome to come in for a demonstration.'

She expected Lana to turn the thrust, respond in kind; instead the Sith surprised her by saying quietly, 'It's not you that I don't trust.'

Devinahl tilted her head, disarmed by Lana's sincerity. 'I know,' she replied. 'But I have the situation ... well in hand.' She smiled.

Lana laughed. 'You really are in a good mood today.'

Devinahl stayed where she was for a moment, watching Lana walk away, struck by their interaction - or rather, what had been missing from it. For so long, she had mistrusted Lana, even hated her: Before the carbonite, when Lana merely represented the Sith who had taken her loyalty to the Empire and squandered it, and after, fighting a doomed rearguard action as Lana maneouvred her into taking command of the Alliance. Even as they had settled into a working partnership, even when Lana showed herself willing, whatever her misgivings, to follow Devinahl's commands, the bitterness had remained in her mouth; she had tasted it with every word she spoke to the Sith. 

When had that sting faded? When had she started thinking of Lana Beniko as something other than an enemy? Something almost like ... a friend?

She was getting soft in her old age - or what passed for it in the shadowy world of the Cipher Agent she had once been. 

Devinahl shook her head, brushing off the thought as she keyed her code into the entry pad. The doors hissed open, and she stepped inside her quarters.

The lamp in the corner bathed the room in the familiar dim light, enough to give a quick, sweeping glance. She waited a moment, and then swiped her palm over the control panel to turn the rest of the light fittings on full blast, bathing her quarters in a harsh glare. 

Before anything else, the familiar routine: A circuit of the room, a check of the various markers she had positioned before leaving for her mission - a stray hair on the bedside table, the exact angle of a pair of boots standing by the door, the precise distance by which the wardrobe door stood ajar - to ensure they were undisturbed. (She allowed her quarters cleaned only by 2V-R8, and then only under her supervision.) As she paced the room, from doorway to couch to refresher to bed, she thumbed the edge of her personal datapad, long ago altered to emit an ion pulse brief enough to only interrupt electronic functioning for a second, and listened with all the acuity of her implant-enhanced ears for the imperceptible-to-most alterations which signalled electronic devices momentarily flickering in their functioning. 

Once she was satisfied the only bugs in operation were her own, she turned them off using the remote device hidden in her pocket. Then she took her time adjusting the lights from the control panel by the door, dimming all of the overhead fixtures again except for one. She unfastened and peeled off her tight jacket, and hung it meticulously over the back of the chair that stood by the desk. She stretched, pushing her palms up towards the ceiling, circling her hands to loosen up her wrists, wiggling her fingers, luxuriating in the sensation. She poured, and drank, a long, leisurely glass of water.

Only once she was absolutely ready did she allow her gaze to fall on the man standing in the middle of the room.

'Hello, emperor,' she said softly. 'Did you miss me?'

Arcann shifted position very slightly as her gaze fell on him for the first time, but he said nothing.

'Oh, that's right, I haven't given you permission to speak yet.' Devinahl leaned back against the desk and considered the former emperor of Zakuul. Contrary to her words to Lana, he wasn't tied up; nor was he naked - quite. Pinned by the solitary overhead light she had left on full, he stood at the foot of the stairs leading up to the bed area of her quarters, right where she had told him to be, correct to the micron. His posture was quite correct, too; that of a soldier at ease, bare feet hip-width apart, weight evenly distributed, back straight, chin up. Both arms, the organic and the prosthetic, were behind his back; his artificial hand would be clasping the other. She imagined the human hand growing slippery with sweat while he waited for her, and smiled.

Naked except for his underwear, Arcann's every muscle was outlined beneath the harsh glare of the spotlight, the skin on his right side smooth and surprisingly white, skin that was not usually exposed to the sun, except for tanned patches on hands, face, neck. On his left, the burns crawled over his torso, climbed up towards his neck, licked at his face; she could almost feel the texture of them under her hands, the roughness of his scarred cheek against the inside of her thigh. 

The scars were most livid where they met the uncompromising black of his prosthetic arm and shoulder: She couldn't imagine how Zakuulan medical droids had been able to fuse to such freshly burned skin, yet she knew he'd received his cybernetics in the midst of a battle. Just the thought of it made a faint, whispered memory of the pain she had suffered when her own implants were attached crawl across her flesh, and she shuddered internally. 

Even without the inhuman strength promised by metal and circuitry, he was an impressive physical specimen, the muscles swelling ominously beneath his skin, every inch of him conditioned for combat, stamina, endurance. Suppress his Force powers, cripple his prosthetic arm, and he would still pose formidable difficulties for the interrogator. Sleep deprivation, stress positions, starvation; all of it would take a tremendous amount of time to break him down. If it even could.

Of course, there were other ways. 

She let him watch her look him up and down, allowed her gaze to linger ostentatiously at his groin, the seconds lengthening until he clothed himself beautifully in a blush that reddened him from head to foot. 'You know, I think you did miss me,' she said thoughtfully, and watched with interest as the blush deepened. 'Take off your underwear. Show me how much.'

Arcann hooked his thumbs in the waistband, pushed his underwear down, stepped free and straightened up, his freed cock springing up against his belly.

She controlled the sharp breath her body wanted to take at the sight of him, and smiled sweetly. 'Already hard for me. Who says emperors don't make good slaves?'

He flinched, ever so slightly.

'You don't like that word, I know.' Devinahl turned away from him, reaching for the decanter which stood on top of the desk and unstoppering it. 'Not "slave". I imagine you'd enjoy it immensely if I started calling you "slave". Pretending that I own you, that you're my property, that you don't have a say in all this.' She poured herself a drink and replaced the decanter. 'But you're not my slave, and you don't belong to me.' She dipped a hand into the refrigeration unit, pulled out a handful of ice cubes, and dropped them one by one into her glass. 'You're my slut, that's all.' Tone was everything; amateurs went breathy, girlish, parodic. She kept hers cool, even, equal parts caressing and contemptuous. 'My slut, because that's what you want to be.'

She took a long sip of her drink, relishing the burn in the back of her throat; not too much, she reminded herself. This was all about precision. 'Well, shall we get the formalities out of the way? You know what I want to hear.'

'I want you.' The deep rasp of Arcann's voice would have sent shivers through a lesser woman.

'I don't care what you want.' Devinahl swirled the ice cubes in her glass. 'Say it.'

'I want ... this.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'Try again.'

'I want this,' he repeated in a rush.

'Better.' She sipped her drink again. 'Tell me your safe word.'

'"Corrasion."'

He hadn't wanted a safe word; she had insisted, not because she was a stickler for etiquette in these matters, but because he needed to know, on as many levels as possible, that he could stop this any time he wanted. That this was happening because he wanted it to. She licked sweet liquor from her lips. 'Say it.'

'You can do anything you want to me.'

'Say it again.'

'You can do anything you want to me.'

She laughed, raising her glass in an ironic salute to him. 'Honestly, who needs whips? You like them, I know, but then ... you like all my tricks, don't you, my emperor?'

She saw the momentary flash of teeth as he bit his lip before quickly returning his expression to stony passivity.

_You can do anything you want to me._ The same words he had said to her, the look on his face more shockingly intimate than his scarred flesh beneath her hands or the feel of his cock inside her, back when all this had started. 

She had always known that something about Arcann didn't quite fit, but he had played his part well, she had to admit that; the tyrant, the ruler, forceful and ruthless even after he had been toppled from his throne. Devinahl had already accepted that she would need to sleep with him, that it was the best way to keep him close and stable and under control, ensuring that her decision to spare his life and, worse, let him join the Alliance did not backfire; she had expected that he would want to dominate, had prepared herself to be the space where he could exercise that part of himself (under her supervision and within her boundaries, of course, but he didn't have to know that). She had let him pull her into his arms, tilted her head back for his first kiss, feeling the resignation with which one contemplated a meaningless but necessary chore.

Instead she had felt the slight tremble of his lips beneath hers and perceived, in one breathtaking instant, not just the immensity of his need, but the unexpected shape of it. 

She had tested him, in the following weeks, with the pressure of her teeth on his neck, the slightest scrape of her nails, a seemingly playful pin of his wrists to the bed while his hips rolled beneath hers. She had thought it might take months of delicate probing to get him to admit what it was he really wanted; in the end, it had only really taken the lightest touch to unshell him completely, to spill that breathless confession from his mouth. Devinahl almost pitied him, having to act a part all these years, when she saw how completely he came to pieces beneath her touch, her voice, even her gaze. 

Almost. If she hadn't felt much more for the slaves and subjects and whoever else he would have used as he tried to pretend that the one thing the Eternal Emperor Arcann wanted wasn't someone who could put him on his knees.

Speaking of which. 

'You've done well so far,' she told him, putting her drink down on the desk and walking slowly towards him. 'Now ... the final test.' She stopped within arm's length of him, close enough that all he had to do was reach out and pull her against him. 'You remember what I told you before I went on my mission?'

He nodded.

'Have you touched yourself while I've been gone?'

Arcann shook his head.

'No?' Devinahl reached out and trailed her fingertips lightly up his thigh, letting them come to rest on his hipbone, watching the muscles in his jaw clench and work as he swallowed. 'Not even once?'

He shook his head again, hard, eyes wide.

'And I know you didn't let anybody else touch you. I'm impressed.' Devinahl let her fingers drift very slowly along the adonis line between hip and groin, listening to the breath hiss between Arcann's teeth. He was trembling. 'Seventeen days with nothing to do but meditate and coordinate patrol ships ... Seventeen nights lying awake in the dark, hard and aching.' She walked the fingers of her other hand up the bunched muscles of his upper arm towards his shoulder. 'And I know what a greedy slut you are.' Her implants picked up every delicious harmonic of the helpless snarl he made deep in his throat. 'Did you think about me every night?'

He nodded.

'That's what I like to hear,' she murmured, and curled her fingers around the back of his neck, forcing his head down. She rose on tiptoes as he bent down, careful not to get too close, and kissed him softly, lingeringly, feeling his lips quiver under her own as he fought to keep himself from leaning in further than the pressure of her hand in the back of his neck indicated. She allowed herself to brush lightly against his cock, and sensed the arrested movement of his hips as he stopped himself from instinctively seeking more friction.

She pulled away from the kiss but kept herself on her toes with her hand wrapped around the back of his neck for balance, kept eye contact with him as the shaft of his cock again grazed against her abdomen; she could almost feel the heat of it through her thin undershirt. 'Careful, now,' she chided, relishing his predicament; she could feel him struggling to keep himself from pressing his hips forward to seek the warmth of her body, but unable to pull back and free himself from the light, tantalising brush of her body against his hardness without causing her to overbalance. Restraints were useless when it came to someone whose prosthetic hand could crush metal into powder, not to mention being able to call upon the power of the Force, but it only made it more delicious that the only thing holding him back was his own decision to obey. She could have chained his hands and strung him from the ceiling and he could not have struggled more helplessly than he did against his own desires. 'You don't want to disappoint me, do you?' She ghosted kisses along his jaw towards his ear. 'Speak.'

'No, Outlander.'

She loved hearing him call her that, and not just because the title, in that deep voice of his, reliably sent a jangle of pleasure through her core. But because of what it did to him. Reminding him of so much he wanted to forget. Driving home exactly whose hand mastered him now. Leaving him no place to run from the hot, hard humiliation of it all. 

'That's right,' she said, her lips drifting back down his jaw towards his mouth, her body still near enough to his to keep brushing against his swollen cock. She tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth, just hard enough to hurt, and enjoyed his stifled grunt, then released her grip on the back of his neck, rocking back on her heels and letting him straighten up. 'You don't get to come without permission, no matter how much you want to.' She stroked the flat of her palm over his taut abdomen, feeling it flutter beneath her hand as he sucked in quick, panting breaths. 'And you do want to, don't you?'

'Yes, Outlander,' he said through gritted teeth, and she saw the muscles of his organic arm and shoulder strain and knot.

'Stop.' She reached around him and tugged at his arms, not wanting him to crush his organic hand too painfully with the cybernetic one as he struggled to maintain control. He released his grip. 'You don't want to hurt yourself; that's my job. Hands behind your head.'

Obediently, he lifted his arms and put both hands behind his head. 

'That's right.' It had the side benefit of being an even more difficult posture to maintain while she teased him, without even the slight relief of being able to grasp one hand with the other. 'Now keep them there while you bend down and show me how much you want to come.'

She made no effort to rise on her heels or even to tilt her head up, forcing him to bend over awkwardly, but there was nothing awkward about the way he captured her mouth, the force of his kiss lifting her face to his. Unable to use his hands and arms to pull her body against his, he could do nothing with his hunger but pour it into his kiss, the ruthless thrust of his tongue, the low moan at the back of his throat, the pressure of his mouth against hers, as if he could drive everything else from her mind but him.

Still, it only took the slightest pressure of her hands against his chest to have him pulling away, straightening up. His obedience started a slow, hot pulse between her thighs. He was so _good_ for her. 

And she was going to be so bad to him.

'You really are desperate,' Devinahl said, allowing amused condescension to colour her tone as she resumed her slow stroking of his adonis line. 'It's not surprising, I suppose ... seventeen days with no relief.' She dropped her left hand to his other hipbone, mirroring the movement of her fingers on the other side, slowly down the indentation towards his groin, then up and away again. 'I imagine you thought you would get quite a reward for being so good.' 

Arcann had begun to tremble more violently as she caressed him. 'It would be amusing if I decided not to reward you, wouldn't it? Sent you back to your quarters like this, made you wait another seventeen days?' She smiled at the strangled sound of protest, stroking up and down as his swollen cock twitched and bobbed between them. 'I don't think you'd find it so amusing ... but you would do it, wouldn't you, you subservient little bitch?'

She loaded the last word with venom, and caught the broken, involuntary thrust of his hips as she pulled her fingers away.

'Fortunately for you,' Devinahl continued, pulling a small vial from the waistband of her trousers where she had tucked it earlier, 'I'm a benevolent ruler.' She smiled sweetly up into his flushed face as she flicked open the cap and let the glistening lube coat her hands, tossing the empty vial in the direction of the refresher. 'And I take pity on all my suffering subjects.'

Arcann flung his head back and groaned aloud at the first swift, firm slide of her fist down his cock. It felt as big and hard as she had ever known it, slippery, burning heat against her palm as she stroked him up and down. He was breathing hard through clenched teeth, fighting not to thrust against her touch, but it only took a few strokes before his hips bucked involuntarily forward -

Devinahl loosened her grip as soon as he moved and took her hand away. 'In my own time, that is.'

She waited for his breathing to slow before she touched him again, the same firm grip, the same ruthless stroke up and down his shaft. She could see him fighting not to do it, trying to hold himself back, but as she twisted her fingers on the upstroke, he lost control, thrusting helplessly into her hand -

She took her hand away, smiling at the bitten-off word he swallowed. 'Speak.'

'Please,' Arcann ground out. 'Please, Outlander, let me come.'

For a man who, outside of these sessions, had never once asked her for anything, he was certainly quick to beg.

She rubbed her hands together, transferring more lube from her left to her right. 'Not until I say so.'

He mumbled something in Zakuulan, cut off by a sharp inhale as she dropped her hand again, letting her palm rest lightly just on the tip, the pounding of the blood through his engorged cock and the stifled, desperate twitches of his hips sending the head of his cock skimming in circles over the flat of her hand. 'Speak Basic,' she ordered.

'I don't - think Basic - has the - the words ...' Arcann's gritted words cut off with another anguished groan as he felt her fingers wrap around him again. 

Devinahl smiled, relishing the sound as much as the needy whine he elicited as she once again lifted her hand in response to the thrust of his hips. 

'Please -!'

'You come when I say you come, emperor.' She wanted for the convulsive clenching in his abdomen to stop and his breathing to calm a little before dropping her hand again, encircling his shaft near the head but more lightly this time, playing the tightening and releasing pressure of her fingers across the straining surface. Arcann flung his head back again, exposing the heaving column of his throat; she saw his shoulders strain as he arched his back, trying to keep from thrusting into her hand or bucking away, trying to accept just what she gave him without demanding more ...

Mentally, Devinahl gave him ten seconds; he lasted twelve, until he felt the tip of her left index finger straying artlessly over his nipple, and helplessly hunched in on himself, pulling his hips away. 'Please, I can't -'

'Oh, my poor emperor,' Devinahl said lightly, waiting until he had agonizingly calmed himself again before taking him in hand again, stroking firmly up and down; she barely got through four strokes before he was bucking into her fist, trembling and moaning. She gently wiped the sweat from his brow as he gasped, eyes closed, swallowing. 'Ask nicely, and maybe I'll let you have it,'

'Please,' Arcann ground out once again, 'Please, Outlander -' The words were lost in a tortured groan as he felt her hand close on him again. 'Please, I'm so close, I can't - please - let me please you -'

Devinahl tsk'ed under her breath, releasing her grip on him at once. 'And you were doing so well. ' He opened dazed blue eyes to stare, disbelieving, at the open hand she held up before his face. 'I don't need you to please me, emperor.' 

She brushed her palm once, lightning quick, over the head of his cock, then stepped back, out of arm's reach, methodically licking lube and pre-cum from her fingers as she watched him fight for control over himself, his shoulders knotting and flexing, his sweat-slick fingertips slipping as he battled to keep his hands behind his head. Maybe she should rethink her position on restraints; she imagined how much closer to the edge it would push him if he could feel the pressure of a collar around his neck every time he gasped and swallowed - a metal collar he had forged himself, maybe - or if she wrapped lengths of fine Kilik silk around wrists, ankles, cock and forbade him to tear them, so that he could only allow himself the tiniest twitches, the most helpless squirms as she teased him. There were so many intriguing possibilities to explore. He had no idea how low she could bring him.

'Good boy,' she praised him as his shudders finally stilled and his breathing calmed. 'Seventeen nights without me, and you're still holding on. In our early days, you would have spilled helplessly all over the floor by now. And been down on hands and knees licking it up.' He whined, deep in his throat, as she drew near him again, his breathing quickening. 

She changed course at the last moment, circling around him, careful to avoid touching him. 'But then, that's your favourite position, isn't it? Hands and knees?' Devinahl came to a halt behind him, watching the sweat glisten on his scarred back; he had been so shy about letting her see him at the beginning, all his jaggedness and ruin. She'd soon cured him of that. 

'One day,' she mused, trailing a finger down his spine, ignoring his shudders, 'I really must get round to fucking you on the Eternal Throne. Would you like that?' She filled her hands with his buttocks, letting her fingers stray inwards towards the cleft. 'You bent over your father's throne, shuddering and weeping, crying out for more even as I ram into you.' She reversed her hands, replacing little fingers with thumbs, delicately probing, separating. 'Begging me to take you again and again. I can make you. You know I can make you.' 

Releasing his buttocks, she stepped closer to him, sliding her hands up and around his shoulders as she raised herself on tiptoe, moulding her body against his back. 'Or maybe I'd have you ride me, what about that? Me, reclining on the throne, reading a report at my leisure, while you fuck yourself silly on my cock, grinding up and down, grunting and sweating and doing all the work.' She wrapped one arm around his neck, letting him take her weight as she strained upwards to whisper as close to his ear as she could reach, her body sliding against his back. 'Is that what you've been thinking about, these seventeen nights?' Her other hand slipped down, down his torso, stopping just short of his cock. 'Me fucking you?'

' _Please_.' It was an anguished whisper.

'I'm bored of your begging,' Devinahl said brutally, releasing her grip on him, pushing herself away from him so that, caught off-guard, he staggered slightly. As he pulled himself upright, back into position, she skirted him neatly again, strolling back towards the desk. 'Shall I tell you what I've been thinking about, these seventeen nights?' She hopped back up on the desk and reached for her drink; the ice had melted. 'Because you see, lover -' she let her thighs fall open slightly, and although she was still fully dressed, she heard Arcann moan softly as if she'd shown him just how wet she was - 'I _have_ been touching myself.' 

She bent down and started to unfasten her right boot. 'I touched myself thinking about you _not_ touching yourself.' She kicked off her boot and started on the other. 'I touched myself thinking about how frustrated you must be, and all the ways I could reward you if you had obeyed my orders.' Arcann's tormented eyes followed her every movement as she peeled off her socks, dropped them on the floor and stood up, hands moving to the waistband of her trousers. 'I touched myself thinking about you on your back, hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs, holding yourself still for me while I fucked you, that gorgeous cock all helpless and useless on your stomach.' She pushed down her trousers, businesslike; this was no striptease, she wasn't performing for him. 'I touched myself thinking about tying you up and playing with you, seeing just how hot and hard I could get you, how long you could last before you lost your voice with begging, lost your words with weeping, before the very slightest touch of my little finger would send you over the edge.' 

She met his eyes while she slid her own hand into her underwear, letting him see her fingers moving under the fabric. 'I touched myself thinking about you on your stomach, hands tied behind your back, your head between my thighs, pleasing me again and again until you came without me even touching you, just from rutting on the bedclothes, writhing on your belly like a worm.'

She pulled her hand out of her underwear, walked back towards him. His mouth was already open, waiting for the fingers she slid between his lips. 'And do you know what I decided, with all my thinking?' Devinahl asked softly, watching his eyes fluttering closed as he tasted her. 

Arcann shook his head as best he could without slowing the frantic swirling of his tongue.

'I decided that if, when I got back, you were as hard and as desperate and as needy as I wanted you to be, and if you were good when I tested you, that I'd let you decide.' She pulled her fingers out of his mouth, which formed an 'o' of mingled longing and surprise as he stared at her. 'That's right, sweet emperor - you can choose.'

She turned away, sauntering back to the desk again, before turning to face him. 'I mean it; no conditions.' She pulled her undershirt over her head, dropping it on to the floor with the rest. Arcann watched, his hands slipping from behind his head, shock still written plainly on his ravaged face. ' No rules. No restraints. No having to wait for my permission to come.' She reached behind her to unclasp her bra, let it slide from her breasts, down her arms. 'You can fuck me any way you want. Put me on my hands and knees, grind my face into the floor, come inside me and leave me wet and wanting while you please yourself again in my ass.' She pushed down her underwear, stepped out of them, leaving her standing naked. 'I'll even suck your cock if that's what you want. How about that? Me on my knees for a change? I'll show you all the things I can do with my tongue, or you can just fuck my mouth, make me swallow your come, or spread it all over my face till I'm dripping with it, painted with your seed.' 

The only sound in the room was Arcann's ragged breathing.

Devinahl lifted her hands to her hair and Arcann's eyes widened even further; she'd never done this in front of him, not once. He watched, mesmerised, as she pulled out the pins one by one, let them tinkle on to the desk until her tight bun uncoiled, her black hair dropping softly to her shoulders as she shook it free.

'You can do anything you want to me,' she told him softly.

He watched as she walked naked to the bed, her face half-hidden behind the curtain of her hair, and sank down on to it, spreading her body out on top of the covers, propping herself up with one elbow nearly buried in the pillows, She let her knees fall open, a posture of wanton abandonment, ran her fingers through her hair, and smiled at him across the room. 'Well?'

It was written all over his face, how badly he wanted to turn, cover the room in two quick strides and be on her, his hands spreading her thighs, lifting her hips with brute strength and impale her on his tormented cock ...

'I'm waiting,' she sang softly.

With what looked like an inhuman effort, Arcann dragged his eyes away from her to gaze in front of him again. His hands moved back behind his head, his fingers lacing together as he straightened, resuming his submissive posture. 

Devinahl almost forgot to breathe; it was better than an orgasm, the elation that swept over her as she saw him relinquish the proffered control, offering himself up to her once again. 'That's my good emperor,' she said, barely able to keep her voice from shaking. 'That's my sweet slut.'

He, somehow, incredibly, blushed again, and she almost came right there and then. 

And if her release depended on his abasement as much as his depended on her mercy ... Well, she was still the one on top.

'Come here,' she ordered.

He walked towards the bed, head bowed.

Devinahl stood as he drew near, fighting the urge to grab his neck and pull him down so that she could claim his mouth; she still had a job to do. 

'On your back.'

Arcann lay down as directed, stretching out his muscular frame on top of the covers where she had arranged herself so recently. His cock was as hard as ever, bobbing and twitching plaintively as it pointed towards the ceiling, but his face was calm, serene even, as if surrendering anew to her had let him find an oasis of stillness in the midst of his desperation.

She would soon put paid to that.

Devinahl straddled him roughly, planting herself astride his waist; he grunted as her weight settled on to him. 'Now,' she told him, running her fingertips teasingly across his chest, 'you had your chance to have your way with me, but you passed, so we're back on my terms.' She traced tiny circles around his nipples, and he breathed in sharply, his stomach muscles clenching beneath her thighs. 'That means I will reward you, like I promised ... But you have to wait for my permission to come. Do you understand?' He nodded, and Devinal pinched both nipples sharply. 'Say it out loud, slut,' she demanded as he winced and arched.

'I will wait for permission to come,' Arcann gasped out.

She let go of his nipples, rubbing them lightly for a few seconds as if mockingly consoling them for the pain she had inflicted. 'Yes, you will, won't you? Hands above your head.'

Arcann laid his wrists back on the pillows, one on either side of his head. 

Devinahl inched up his body until she could lean forward and pin his wrists beneath her hands, pushing them up towards the bedframe. 'Hold,' she told him, and he obediently gripped on to two of the vertical struts; durasteel, reinforced to her personal specifications. He could still snap them if he wanted, with the Force if not with his prosthetic arm, but the grip would afford him a little relief.

'Don't let go,' she warned. 

He nodded.

She released his wrists, but couldn't resist the temptation to stay where she was for a few more seconds, balanced above him, brushing her nipples across his burning lips ...

He couldn't stop himself from opening his mouth, turning his head to try to capture one, but she was too fast for him, pulling back out of reach and sitting back on her haunches, resting her weight on his chest again. 'Uh-uh,' she chided him mockingly. lifting her hands to her breasts to pluck and tease her nipples. 'Just because your cock's so hard you think you're going to die if you don't come, doesn't mean that you get to forget the rules.' She rolled her hips, pressing the wet centre of her thighs against him, and he breathed in, a shudder rippling through him. 'Tell me the first rule.'

'You don't need me to please you,' Arcann gasped out, hips squirming against the sheets as he watched her toy with her own nipples. 

'That's right, sweetheart. Don't ever think I need _you_ to come - or that I need you to _come_.' She began working her hips backwards, bending over him again as she slid her knees back towards the foot of the bed one by one. 'The only person who needs to come is you, little emperor - and you need to come so badly, don't you?'

'So badly, I -' He groaned as she squeezed her thighs against his hips, and felt the head of his cock nudging blindly against her folds. 'Please -'

'Not just yet.' She slid herself back along his shaft, letting out another of her little purring cries as she pleasured herself against his hardness. 'I might never get you this hard again. I need to enjoy it.'

He honest-to-Sithspit gulped as she worked herself up and down again, the veins standing out on his forearms as he gripped the bedframe, the knuckles of his original hand white. 'I can't -'

'You can, and you know why?' Devinahl lifted herself off his shaft, and he gave a groan of mingled disappointment and relief, which changed pitch sharply when she wrapped her hand around him, her thumb rubbing over the head. 'Because you know how good it's going to feel when I do put you inside me.' 

His whole body tensed in expectation as she guided him towards her, only to shudder and writhe in helpless frustration as, instead of guiding him towards her entrance, she rubbed the head of his cock against her clit. 'Oh, yes,' she murmured, shivering herself and letting her eyes drift closed as she used the tip of his cock against her swollen flesh, 'so good - it's going to feel so good ...'

Arcann's whole body bowed beneath her, and there was an ominous grinding from the bedframe as he tried to get his hips away from her tormenting stimulation, his heels scrabbling helplessly against the covers. 'Please, Outlander, please -'

'Oh, very well.' Devinahl eased the head of his cock inside her - and held him there, with no more than an inch of his hardness twisting against the very opening of her passage. 'There. Are you happy now?'

Arcann's head thrashed blindly from side to side on the pillow. 'More - more -'

'More?' Devinahl said in mocking surprise, feeding another inch inside her before stopping again, holding herself suspended above his writhing hips.

'Outlander!' It was a _wail_.

She allowed herself to lower her hips, watching his face as he felt her surround him, her warmth, her wetness. His hips started to buck upwards, and Devinahl placed a hand lightly on his abdomen, warningly. The way he stilled instantly at her touch had her tightening involuntarily around him, and as he groaned she turned her momentary loss of control to good effect, relaxing and tightening again.

He gave another strangled cry, his back arching, the cords standing out in neck and shoulder as he fought to keep himself still. 'I can't - please - I can't hold on -'

'Oh, I think you can,' she said, but stopped her rhythmic tightening. 'There you go,' she murmured encouragingly as his spasming muscles relaxed slightly, his long-delayed orgasm receding once again. 'You can do it ... You've been so good today. Just hold on a little longer.' She shifted her hips gently, rolling him inside her; he groaned as she slid her hand down his abdomen, down to where their bodies joined. 'Mistresses come before greedy sluts.'

Arcann sucked in another breath between clenched teeth as she began to touch herself, circling her swollen clit with two fingers. She flung her head back, hair brushing against her shoulder blades, watching him from underneath her eyelashes as she continued the rapid, light circles she knew would swiftly push her over the edge, aroused as she was. 'Can you feel it? How tight I'm getting? How wet?' She rolled her hips again, watching as the sweat stood out on his forehead. 'No? How about now?' She tightened herself around him and pushed up from her knees, letting him almost slip out of her, then lazily sank back down until he was fully buried again. 'Feel that?'

He looked as good as she had seen him, writhing underneath her as she rode him with deliberate slowness, sweat glistening on his flushed face, eyes fluttering closed, mouth open with his one want. She hadn't tied him, wasn't holding him down; he could have crushed the bedframe to powder in his prosthetic fist, forced her into any position he wanted, and yet there he lay, squirming like a broken butterfly, pinned to the bed by his burning need. 

She started to rise and fall faster, increasing the pace as she rode his cock, timing the rubbing of her clit to match - then slowed down, smiling as she heard him almost sob. 'No - please -'

Devinahl scratched her fingernails across his chest, and he opened his eyes to look at her, pleading wordlessly.

'Ask for what you want,' she ordered him.

He licked dry lips. 'Please,' he croaked. 'Please, Outlander, finish it.' He groaned as she reached back behind her to cup his balls, caressing them with her thumb. ''Finish me ... Finish your slut.' When she didn't react, he tried again, his voice cracking. 'Please, Outlander, I know I don't deserve it ...' 

'I decide what you deserve,' she cut across him, as his hips twitched fruitlessly beneath hers. 'One more time, emperor ... Ask me.'

'Make me come.' He gasped out the words. 'Make your slut come.'

'Well, since you asked so nicely ...' Devinahl leaned one hand on his chest, raised herself up his shaft one final time. 'Watch me,' she warned him.

He only nodded meekly, his burning gaze locked with hers.

Which meant she got to see his eyes widen as she slammed her hips down around him. The time for finesse had come and gone; she rode him fast and ruthlessly, raising herself up and then ramming her hips back against him, fucking herself on him as hard and brutally as she could. Arcann writhed beneath her, words spilling from his lips, snatches of Zakuulan mingled with incoherent pleas and shameless praise, lost in relief and pleasure and the relief of pleasure as she pushed him headlong towards the precipice, ready to send him careening off the edge ...

Devinahl strummed her fingers back and forth against her clit frantically, and felt the shiver singing across her skin that heralded her orgasm. As the first waves of pleasure began to break over her, she leaned forward over him, bringing both hands up to pin his shoulders against the bed, never letting her gaze waver from his pleading eyes. 'Come for me,' she ordered, grinding her hips frantically up and down, burying him inside her again and again as deep as she could, even as her own spasms began. 'Come for me _now_.'

There was a moment where nothing happened, and then she felt him twitch inside her, hips thrusting up jerkily, all control lost, the durasteel slat of the bedframe crumbling beneath the uncontrollable clenching of his metal fist and a long cry spilling from his lips as he finally released inside her, going on and on. Devinahl rode out her own orgasm, watching fascinated as the body beneath her was racked helplessly by pleasure, thrusting into her again and again as his semen flooded her, until at last he slumped back on the pillows as if every bone inside his body had melted, an expression of utter satiety on his face.

She almost envied him, but ... she was the one on top.

She released her grip on his shoulders and gently pulled his hands away from what remained of the headboard, laying herself down on top of him and tugging him over on to his side, wrapping one leg around his waist, letting him in turn pull her into his arms and bury his head against her.

They stayed like that for a long few minutes as Arcann shook and sweated and perhaps wept against her breasts, his softening cock still twitching feebly inside her. Devinahl never knew if he could really hear her when he was like this, but she murmured into his ear anyway, nonsensical praise and endearments, making her tone smooth and sweet as she soothingly rubbed her palm over his shaved scalp. Once she would have scorned somebody who needed to be broken down to nothing in order to be open. But then, once she hadn't needed to break someone down to nothing before she could be kind.

Devinahl waited until his breathing was back to normal and he had stopped shaking, then gently but firmly disentangled herself and got out of bed, heading to the refresher. 

When she came back, tying her hair back up in a hasty ponytail as she crossed the room, Arcann had cleaned himself up with the towel she kept in her bedside cabinet, and had stripped the top cover off the bed, where he sat waiting for her. 

'Duty calls,' she said softly.

His ruined face looked up at her as she ran a hand gently over his stubbled scalp again.

He had never once asked her for anything, unless she was making him beg.

'Fine,' she said, motioning for him to stand up, and pulled back the covers. Ignoring the tug she felt inside at the incredulous pleasure in his eyes, she pushed against his chest, shoving him not ungently back on to the bed. 'You can stay. For one hour.' She climbed in after him, settling herself with her back against his chest, thinking of the pile of datapads on her desk, the files Theron had sent her ... He pulled the covers up over them, wrapping his arm around her and nuzzling his nose into her hair with a pleased little noise. His skin was so warm, and she was already horribly, terrifyingly comfortable. 'Maybe two.' 

Devinahl felt his fingers thread between hers.

Maybe she really was going soft in her old age.


End file.
